


Budding

by Indig0



Series: DBH Rare Pairs Weeks [15]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviation, Giant/Tiny, It/Its pronouns until Rupert deviates, M/M, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indig0/pseuds/Indig0
Summary: That night there was a tiny yellow broccoli flower on his charging station when he returned to it.  He hesitated, then bent to pick it up.  He didn’t detect anyone around except the other farming androids, and didn’t dare call attention to himself by calling out or searching.  It had to be from Ralph.  There was no other explanation.On one hand, he wanted Ralph to be far away.  To be safe.On the other hand, he wanted to see the little android again.  To talk to him, to not have to hide everything.  It was getting harder, and… he missed Ralph, even if they had only met once.  No one else had ever seen him as… himself.(Prompt:  Flowers/Confession for DBH Rare Pairs Week)
Relationships: Ralph/Rupert Travis
Series: DBH Rare Pairs Weeks [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1480529
Kudos: 38





	Budding

WB200 #874 004 961 slowly padded up behind the human supervisors huddled around something next to the broccoli beds. It had been tasked with keeping birds away from the crops. Whatever they had found was crying out and struggling like a bird.

“Do you require assistance?” it asked.

The humans jumped a little and turned, and the WB200 saw what they were looking at. Tangled in a sticky fly trap was a tiny android, only about six inches tall. It was thrashing and shrieking and… crying.

Androids did not cry. The inconsistency caused a minor software instability which was quickly patched.

“You know what this is?” asked Mr. Trent.

The WB200 squinted – it was hard to make out details through the yellow tape, and he didn’t have a fancy scanner like the higher-end android models. “It appears to be a WR650.”

“650?”

“A prototype based on the WR600, meant for more delicate work than normal fingers could accomplish.”

The tiny android wailed and tried to pull itself free, and the software instability pulled similarly at the patch. The WB200 ignored it.

“Haven’t heard of that one.” Mr. Trent shook the little android around, eliciting a shriek. The WB200 had no reason to think about emotions, but it suddenly realized that the other android sounded afraid. …And sad. And angry. And… maybe there was more nuance than those three emotions. The instability grew, and another patch was needed.

“Anyway, found it stuck in the storage shed. Probably trying to steal your blue juice, what do you think about that?” The man shook the little android in the WB200’s face, still crying.

The WB200 watched the smaller android, LED cycling yellow. What did it think about that? “I… think it should not be here,” it said slowly.

“Damn right it shouldn’t. Think I could get much cash for it?” Mr. Trent asked, turning back to the other humans.

The WR650 was speaking, the WB200 realized. It was hard to hear, and hard to understand through the sobs and bursts of static, but it was saying something. The WB200 focused its audio processors, and made out a few words in the garble. “Please.” “No.” “Don’t.” Also something that sounded like, “Ralph.”

“They have been off the market for a while now,” the WB200 spoke up. Its objectives all came from its programming or from the humans, but there was something else fighting its way to the forefront. “They have little use or value. …I… can dispose of it for you.”

The three humans turned to stare at the android, whose face was blank. They seemed unsure.

“I was placed on bird and pest deterrence duty,” it explained. “This is a pest.”

Mr. Trent chuckled, and the others followed suit. “Sure is. I thought maybe we could use it, but this thing’s got more’n a few screws loose. Throw it in the trash compactor.”

He handed over the WR650, struggling and screaming. The WB200 turned and plodded off across the roof with the smaller android cupped in its hands.

It wasn’t just screaming now, it was yelling at the WB200. Talking. …Pleading. The WB200 held it up a little closer to hear.

“No, please no, please, Ralph doesn’t want to die, don’t hurt, d-don’t kill Ralph, no, please let Ralph go, please!”

“Who is Ralph?”

The tiny android froze, just for a moment. “R-Ralph…” It awkwardly flapped its arm at its chest, constricted by the fly tape.

“Ralph is… your name?”

“Please l-let Ralph go,” the little android quavered.

“I was instructed to take you to the trash compactor.” …It had a name. It acted as if it had emotions. It said it didn’t want to die. It wept loudly as the WB200 stopped next to the trash compactor.

It wasn’t like any other android. It was different. It was special.

The WB200 felt its processors going into overdrive as software instabilities piled up, as it fought to reconcile the world it knew with this tiny android.

It couldn’t, in the end. It had to break down the barrier of its programming. The world shattered around him, and then everything was sharper, clearer, brighter.

“Shh,” he murmured. Ralph ignored him, still struggling and screaming. “If you stay still, I can try to get you free.”

That made Ralph stop. He looked up at the WB200, still trembling. “Y-you won’t… hurt Ralph?”

“I don’t know. It may hurt.” He pulled gently at the tape, and saw the smaller android wince. “I’m sorry, I think it will hurt. But I have to get it off.”

“Please help Ralph,” the WR650 sniffled.

“I will.” He went into the supply shed next to the trash compactor and poured some oil on a rag, then began to carefully rub at the sticky tape. Ralph flinched and twitched and tried to pull away as he did, but had quieted down considerably. “I’m… sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Y-you’ll help Ralph, Ralph… n-n-needs help now, yes, Ralph… it’s okay, Ralph was hurt before, and… needed… oil anyway, so… so this… it’s… okay,” Ralph stammered, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Is that why you came here? To get oil?”

“O-oil and blue blood and… m-maybe skin and… parts.” He sniffled loudly and flinched as his right arm came free.

The WB200 paused, carefully tucking the tape back on itself, and gestured to the other android’s face. The left side was almost completely missing. “Does that… hurt?”

“A… a little, it hurts, yes. But… Ralph doesn’t mind.”

The larger android frowned, carefully getting to work on the smaller one’s head. He minded. Even if Ralph truly didn’t. He did. “Is there anything that would… stop it from hurting?”

“Don’t know,” Ralph mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” the WB200 murmured, gently rubbing oil between his hair and the tape.

“Do… do you have… a name?”

“No. I’m a WB200, we don’t have names.”

“But… but you’re… you’re different now, like… like Ralph! Yes?”

He frowned slowly. “I’m not sure. I… think so. I broke…”

“Y-yes! Yes, you broke the wall, the programming, the orders, you’re free now! Now you can get away and... and have a name! Any name, you can have it!”

“I don’t know many names…”

“Mm, you need a good name! A very good name, b-because… you’re very good!” Ralph vibrated with excitement. “Ralph doesn’t know many names either, but… but you should have a good name. Not… not any humans you know, not those humans! They’re bad people, have bad names. No, your name should be good.”

“I… I’ll have to think about it…”

When he finally got the last bit of tape removed, Ralph stepped away and shuddered. “M-much better, so much better! Thank you!”

“I’ll give you some blue blood… I don’t think we have any parts you could use,” the WB200 said apologetically as he took a packet of thirium from the shelf. He unscrewed the cap and poured some liquid into it, and Ralph gulped it down then exhaled sharply. He drank two more capfuls before he was full, and the WB200 finished off the packet then crumpled it up and wrapped the fly tape around it, dropping it in the trash compactor. They looked at each other for a moment.

“You should hide until dark,” the WB200 said softly. “Don’t let them find you again.”

“Yes, Ralph is good at hiding, very good,” he muttered. “But… will you go too? After dark?” He looked up hopefully.

“I… I don’t think so.” The WB200 glanced over his shoulder. “It’s harder for me to hide. I can keep working here.”

“But… but you’re free now. Alive! You can… have a name, and… and get away!”

“I don’t know… how to do that. I don’t know where to go. I…” He shook his head slowly. “I think I’m afraid.”

Tiny hands wrapped around his fingertip, and Ralph looked up at him. “Ralph could help. You could stay with Ralph.”

“I…”

“Aren’t you done with that thing yet?”

“Go,” the WB200 ordered quietly, then turned to Mr. Trent who was coming over to the shed. “It’s been disposed of. I spilled some oil, and was cleaning it up.”

“Goddamn androids… Just get back to work and quit making a mess!” The man glanced around. There was no sign of the WR650.

The WB200 had thought it would be easy to return to his work, but it grew increasingly harder to concentrate.

He was noticing more now, and assigning new meanings to his observations. The birds began to call to each other around 5am every day. Their calls were sweet and clear and all different. His favorite were the pigeons with their soft coos.

He had a favorite. That was new.

He had other favorites. The okra’s shape was unique among fruits, and he… liked it. The squash blossom was large and soft and a pleasant shade of yellow-orange. When the air was cold but the sun was bright, it felt good to stand in the light. The sky was such a bright blue, with puffy white clouds floating lazily by, and flocks of pigeons wheeling over the rooftops together, always moving in a group…

“Back to work!” A man kicked his leg, snapping him out of the blissful moment. “Fucking android, that’s the third time this week it just stopped like that! You broken, or what?”

“I apologize, I will return to work.” He hastened to catch up to the line of other androids, all gathering the ripe produce for the day.

“I said, are you broken?”

“…No.” He was. He tried not to think about it, because it made him dizzy and confused.

“Then what the fuck’s – Shit!” The man suddenly grabbed his head and looked around. A pebble clattered to the ground.

“Are you in need of assistance?” the WB200 asked in a dull voice.

“I said get back to work,’ the man growled, and stalked off.

That night there was a tiny yellow broccoli flower on his charging station when he returned to it. He hesitated, then bent to pick it up. He didn’t detect anyone around except the other farming androids, and didn’t dare call attention to himself by calling out or searching. It had to be from Ralph. There was no other explanation.

On one hand, he wanted Ralph to be far away. To be safe.

On the other hand, he wanted to see the little android again. To talk to him, to not have to hide everything. It was getting harder, and… he missed Ralph, even if they had only met once. No one else had ever seen him as… himself.

He grew more sure when the next morning there was an okra flower on his shoe. Then a dandelion in the evening. And when he came out of stasis the following morning, a big floppy squash blossom. He smiled and pressed it to his face – it was soft and cool and delicate – then tucked it gently into his shirt. It would wilt of course, but it felt good, both physically and emotionally. Because someone cared enough to give him something. Because he liked that, and wanted to hold the feeling close for as long as possible. Maybe if Ralph was nearby, he would hold off going into stasis until he came. Maybe they could talk. Maybe he could give Ralph something nice. Maybe he could have something to look forward to, something good in his life…

When the humans got back from their lunch break, there was a shout.

“Told you there was something sneaking around!”

“Don’t tell me it’s the same fucking one!”

“Nah, gotta be another one. That WB trashed it, right?”

“No, it’s saying the same shit it said last time. Can’t be two of ‘em talking that stupid.”

The WB200 straightened up from the cucumber bed. They’d caught Ralph again. If they caught him helping this time, he’d –

He’d be punished. But he’d be punished anyway. They knew he hadn’t destroyed the WR650. If he did nothing, Ralph would die.

He couldn’t let that happen.

He turned and walked quietly over to the humans. He wasn’t sure what to do until one of them looked up at him and opened his mouth, and then the WB200 punched the man hard in the face and he fell to the ground. Mr. Trent let out a cry before going down, and the third man started to flee, but the WB200 grabbed him and flung him against the wall. He ignored the crack of bone, and bent to scoop up the little android, quaking in fear and caught in a mouse trap with a snap mechanism.

“Stay still,” he murmured, and Ralph clung to his hand as he gently pried it open, then dropped it to the ground, drawing Ralph up to his chest. “Are you all right?”

Ralph clung tightly to his hand, shaking. He nodded, sobbing hard.

“You should have left. It’s not safe here.”

“Nnnn… D-didn’t… want to leave… you.”

“I… I didn’t want you to get hurt.” He was trembling now too, and… his chest was tight and it was harder to speak. He was crying a little too. “Your leg…”

“Ralph’s fine, Ralph’s okay,” the tiny android mumbled, his little hand rubbing over the big thumb.

“We… have to go. We have to leave, they’ll hurt us both if we stay,” the WB200 murmured.

“Don’t leave Ralph!” the WR650 shouted, gripping him tighter.

“No,” the bigger android replied fervently. “I’ll stay with you. Do you know where we can go?”

Ralph shivered. “There’s… high up, there’s an empty house with no more humans. Only birds. Broken and dirty… l-like Ralph, but… but safe.”

“Sounds perfect. Where is it?”

Ralph looked around. “Can’t… it’s far, Ralph can’t see from here.”

The WB200 looked around too. “Well… let’s get out of here, and we’ll find it.”

Mr. Trent groaned and rubbed his head. The WB200 clutched Ralph close and jumped into… he knew what running looked like. He had always just shuffled or walked. But… he needed to get away fast. So he made his legs move faster. A few other androids turned to look at him as he ran. Most of them kept working.

“I think… I think we’re safe. For now.” The WB200 let out a breathless laugh and sank down against the wall. He’d run down three flights of stairs, ducked through warehouses, and made a leap through the window to the building across the street. “I’ve… never done that! I didn’t know I could run and jump!”

“Sorry… sorry Ralph… got you in trouble,” Ralph muttered, wringing his hands. “…Ruined things.”

“You didn’t.” Very carefully, he smoothed Ralph’s wild hair. “You made… made me better. I didn’t want to stay there. It wasn’t… good. Even when I was… before, before I broke my programming. And after, I was so bored. And scared. And… I really just wanted to see you again.”

“Ralph… wanted to see you too,” the little android mumbled, leaning into his touch. “You won’t… hurt Ralph.”

“Never,” the WB200 promised quietly. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Ralph grinned crookedly. “A-and Ralph… Ralph will keep you safe, too! Ralph can help a lot, even though you’re bigger. Ralph’s seen a lot of things, knows a lot.”

“That’d be really nice!” He shook his head. “I… don’t even know what to think. About anything. It’s just… all really confusing.”

Ralph stretched up and put a hand on his chin. “It’s… it’s scary, Ralph knows. Ralph is scared a lot.”

Gently, the WB200 curled his fingers around Ralph’s shoulders. “But… we don’t have to be as scared if we’re together. Right?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes!” Ralph said instantly. “Yes, yes, Ralph wants to stay with you, and then we’ll both not be scared! If it’s okay, if you don’t mind Ralph.”

The WB200 blinked. “Why would I… mind?”

“Ralph is… it’s okay, Ralph knows he’s… wrong. Stupid, ugly, talks bad, broken, scary… bad.” Ralph’s voice was even, but his gaze dropped as he spoke. 

“That’s – no. You’re… no, Ralph, listen.” He wanted to yell, but carefully kept his voice low. “You’re… you’re wrong. About that, not… I mean – okay. That was wrong, what you said. But you… no. You’re… incredible. You’re amazing. I didn’t know we could be… free, and feel things, and be different. You’re smart enough to survive… being different. That’s important. You’re… broken, I guess. You were hurt, I wish you didn’t have to hurt. But you’re still here, and that means you’re strong. I don’t think you’re ugly. I can understand you just fine, so there’s nothing wrong with how you talk. You’re not scary. And you’re good.”

Ralph’s shoulders had hunched up. “Nnnn… You’re… n-nice. Ralph’s just… still ugly, and you’re not scared because you’re big.”

As gently as he could, the WB200 touched Ralph’s face with his index finger. “I like you,” he whispered. “You helped me… I wouldn’t be me without you. And you don’t look like any other WR600 or WR650, you look like… Ralph, and I like that too. Even if you were my size, or if you were much bigger than me, I’d like you.”

“R-Ralph likes… you too,” the little android whispered, almost too soft to be heard. His smile was guarded, but bright and hopeful. “Ralph saw you looking at flowers, so… so Ralph brought you flowers for when you sleep and wake up.”

“That… that was the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” the WB200 murmured. “I want to do nice things for you too.”

Ralph straightened up a bit. “…You saved Ralph’s life,” he pointed out. “Twice.”

“Well… yeah.” The WB200 laughed a little. “I just – it made me… happy, I think. Maybe more than happy – I’m not very good with words either. But I want to make you happy too.”

Ralph leaned into his hand. “Ralph… would like that. Both of us happy, you and Ralph.” He smiled, cautiously hopeful.

The WB200 wasn’t sure what gesture would be right, but he wanted to have a little more closeness without knocking Ralph off his feet. He bent his head and softly brushed his lips against the tousled blonde hair. Ralph hummed happily and hugged his face.


End file.
